The Ring
by missEris
Summary: Set post Child's Play so maybe some spoilers. Lindsay has gone but no-one knows where. Angst and dark secrets. Italics denote flashbacks. Angsty outpourings with references to past abuse mostly emotional .
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer; I own none of the CSI: NY characters and I have no money so suing me would be pointless.**

* * *

The woman stared up at the apartment building, wondering not for the first time if she was doing the right thing. She really didn't want to make things worse. She looked around nervously, seeing the backed up traffic and frantic pedestrians, suddenly yearning to go back home, yearning for the peace and quiet of her suburban existence.

She stuffed her hands into her pockets to ward off the bitter chill that was creeping into her fingers. The feel of the leather box against her touch snapped her out of her desire to flee, a reminder of why she was here.

Quickly, before her resolve left her, she crossed the road and made her way up the steps. She took the opportunity the woman with the stroller presented, thankful that she could hold onto the door while the woman struggled against the wind whipping at her slight frame. After smiles and words of thanks, Sarah Smith snuck in through the door, into the warmth that the shared hallway offered. She took a deep breath and headed for the stairs, needing time to think of what she was going to say.

88888888

"_Danny Messer! Can I talk to you a second?"_

_His steps faltered and she watched his back stiffen, shoulders hunched in defeat. She felt her heart lurch in her chest. She didn't know if she could do this but she had to try._

"_What is it?" he asked, his gaze flitting very briefly to hers before once again resting at his feet._

"_I miss you," she whispered._

_He closed his eyes tightly and breathed slowly through his nostrils. _

"_I can't do this right now," he said simply._

"_Why not?" she asked, arching her brow questioningly. _

_It had been weeks since they'd spent any time together, her efforts to support him after Ruben's death clearly unwanted._

"_I just . . . .," he shuffled his feet, his eyes still glued to them, "I just need some time," he sighed._

"_A day?" she asked, moving towards him, "A week? Forever?"_

_His head shot up at that, eyes full of pain locking with hers. "What . . .? No, . . . I, ."_

"_It's okay," she said, blinking back the tears that stung her eyes, "I understand, I do . . ., really . . I just, . . . ." she took a deep breath and shrugged, ". . miss you," she added finally. _

"_I'm sorry," he whispered, stepping into her, resting his forehead against hers for a moment._

"_It's okay," she replied, her fingers reaching up to press against his chest, fiddling with the collar of his shirt._

"_Just . . ., wait for me," he whispered, a note of pleading in his voice, "please."_

"_Of course," she said softly, "You did it for me, I'll do it for you."_

_He stepped back then, hesitating a moment to brush his lips briefly against hers. "I have to go," he said, his eyes holding an intensity that made her shudder._

_She nodded as he turned and walked away. "I'd give you forever if that's what you needed," she whispered, unsure if he heard her._

_His guilt increased with every step he took away from her. He'd never meant to hurt her, god only knew she'd had enough pain in her life. He just couldn't bring himself to be with her right now, being with her made him happy and that was something he didn't feel he had any right to. Deep down he knew he had to find a way to stop blaming himself, had to find a way to move on otherwise he might as well have died along with Rueben, or Louis, or Aiden . . . . ._

Danny ran his fingers through his hair in frustration.

"Dammit! Where the hell are you Montana?" he shouted, screwing up the list that Flack had given him and throwing it to the floor.

It was the same every week. Flack would come around and drop off the list of Jane Doe's that had presented in the past few days, leaving Danny to scan the details of every one, desperate in his search for any sign that one of them could be Lindsay. And every week his mind would drift back to the last time he saw her, the last time he'd touched her.

8888888

"How is he?" Stella asked as Flack entered her office, his expression dejected and telling her everything she wanted to know.

"Lost, guilty, angry . . . . ."

It was the same response he gave every time. Stella sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose in an attempt to clear the ache that had taken up permanent residence behind her eyes.

"You think she's gone don't you?" she asked finally.

Flack looked at her, his gaze narrowing. "Oh god Stell," he replied, his words coming out choked, "I hope not . . . . ."

Stella stood, stepping around her desk to stand before him. "We have to think it's a possibility though don't we?" she asked, tears filling her eyes.

Don reached his arms around her, pulling her into his chest and holding her tightly to him, his own eyes filling at the thought of the beautiful, bright, funny girl from Montana being no longer with them.

"I just don't know where else to look," he replied, his head dropping and resting against her shoulder.

They held onto each other, neither one wanting to let go, both absorbed with memories of the last time they saw her.

8888888

"_Hey kiddo, how's it going?" Stella asked as she entered the locker room._

_Lindsay's head snapped up at the sudden interruption. "Oh hey Stell," she said softly, trying to clear her thoughts and focus on the task of packing up for the day._

_Stella frowned at her. "You doing something with Danny tonight?"_

_The younger woman couldn't stop the pain that flitted across her expression. "Um . . . no, I . . ."_

_Stella sighed. "You know why he's doing this don't you?"_

"_What?!" Lindsay asked, shocked at Stella's words._

_Stella smiled softly, reaching out and placing a calming hand on Lindsay's forearm. "He thinks he doesn't deserve you."_

_Lindsay sighed deeply. "He deserves so much more than me," she said simply._

"_That's crap and you know it," Stella said, sitting down beside her._

"_Do I?" Lindsay asked, her eyes flicking momentarily to the older woman's, "I'm no good at this sort of thing stell. The other day I went to his apartment, Rikki was there, I could see she'd been crying. He let me in, he had this desperate look in his eye, like he was pleading with me to help him and I just took one look at Rikki and froze."_

_Lindsay took a shaky breath, "It's the mother thing . . . ."_

"_And Danny knows that Linds."_

"_I guess," Lindsay sighed, her shoulders shrugging lightly._

_Stella was about to speak when they were interrupted by Mac who gave them a measured look before holding up a file._

"_We've got a new case," he said, his expression neutral._

"_What ya got?" Stella asked, giving Lindsay a moment to collect herself._

"_Peter Michaels, turned up at the precinct a few hours ago. Told them he wanted to confess to a series of murders spanning the past 10 years. Same MO, all teenage girls with a history of psychological problems; vulnerable, lonely girls who wind up raped and murdered, dumped in public parks, dressed identically in clothes that didn't belong to them. Twelve vics across twelve states. Most recent was a week ago here in Manhattan," he paused, glancing at the two women. _

"_The Stanten case," Lindsay breathed, nodding in understanding._

"_Exactly," Mac said, nodding approvingly at her ability to catch on. _

"_It seems as though you have all the answers already Mac," Stella said with a smile._

"_Almost," her boss replied, "He's given us everything; detailed accounts, photos of all the vics post mortem. The only thing he wants us to do is identify the first vic."_

_Stella arched her brow questioningly. "Why?"_

"_Because," Mac replied, "Apparently she's still alive, he let her go."_

_Both women looked at him sharply. "I don't understand," Lindsay said, frowning._

"_I'm not sure that I do," Mac sighed, "I think it's a game. He's given us her hair," he added, holding up an evidence bag, "wants us to identify her through her DNA, says she never came forward to lodge a complaint."_

"_How does he know we even have her in the system?" Lindsay asked._

"_I have no idea, but Flack says Michaels is certain we'll find her."_

"_I'll get this to Adam," Lindsay said, taking the bag from Mac before heading towards the lab._

"_So much for a quiet night at home," Stella sighed, giving Mac a small smile before taking the file from him and heading towards her office._

"_Adam's processing the hair," Lindsay said as she joined Stella in her office, "What do you want me to take?"_

"_Here," Stella replied, passing a stack of papers to the younger woman, "his diaries, I'll take the first half, you take the second."_

"_Why are we even bothering if we've got a confession?" Lindsay sighed, sitting down opposite Stella._

"_You don't even need me to answer that," the older woman said with a smile._

"_Yeah, yeah, I know. We've gotta be thorough."_

"_Exactly."_

_The women sat poring over the diaries in companionable silence, the only sound coming from either one of them when a particularly harrowing account caused a curse to be uttered. _

"_I think he was grooming her," Stella said softly to herself._

"_What?" Lindsay questioned, still distracted by the entries she was viewing._

"_The first girl," Stella said, "he was grooming her. She was the one he wanted, the one he did all this for," she added, her hand indicated the documents littered across the desk._

"_What makes you think that?" the younger woman asked._

"_He seemed obsessed with her, it seems as though he'd known her for quite some time, that she'd been through some hard times and he was helping her. She was sixteen when they first met, it seems as though she had been through some sort of trauma. This isn't a professional summary but I'm wondering if he was a counsellor or some sort of shrink. He talks about her visiting him, it seems as though it went on for quite a few months and the way he writes her, it's . . . I don't know, but it sort of seems as though he loved her."_

_Lindsay frowned, mulling Stella's words over in her head. "Did he rape her?" she asked, "I mean, we know he let her go but do we know if he raped her?"_

"_I don't know," Stella replied, "There's no account of it, his last entry is about his grief at her leaving."_

"_I thought Mac said he let her go."_

"_Yeah," Stella replied, frowning. "But according to this she just stopped visiting, he talks about not being able to reach her anymore, about her distancing herself from him and how her mother called him to stop the visits. That's what makes me wonder if she was there on some sort of professional basis but the way he writes is like some sort of romantic liaison. No physical intimacy though, just his thoughts and descriptions . . . . oh! . ."_

"_What is it?" Lindsay asked._

"_He was definitely grooming her," Stella said with satisfaction, "And he was definitely trying to capture what he believed he had with her when he took the others." Stella passed the notes to Lindsay and watched as her eyes scanned the last few paragraphs on the page._

"_He dressed them like her," Lindsay whispered as she read Michaels' detailed description of the teenager and what she was wearing. "We need to find out who she was."_

"_I'll go and chase up the DNA from Adam, in the meantime why don't you and Flack go and speak with Mr Michaels?" Stella suggested._

"_I'm on it," Lindsay replied, getting up and going in search of the young detective._

"I miss her," Stella whispered into Don's shoulder as she fought back the tears that were threatening to overwhelm her.

"Yeah," he sighed, "Me too."

8888888

Mac Taylor looked on at the scene in front of him. He could tell by the way they were holding each other that Flack had just returned from his weekly visit to Danny. The routine had become agonizingly familiar. Mac wished he could reach out to the younger man, wished he could take back everything that had happened that day.

"_How's it going?" Mac asked as Stella entered his office._

"_Adam should be along in a minute with the DNA profile, he seemed a little distracted an said he wanted to talk to us in person," Stella said, shrugging in confusion._

"_Sounds as though he might have something though," Mac said._

"_Yeah," Stella replied, "Although I don't relish talking to this girl, whoever she is, it's not going to be easy telling her that he murdered eleven girls because he was obsessed with her."_

"_That's what you think?" Mac asked._

"_I'm sure of it, he was obviously grooming her and when he couldn't have her went looking for a replacement and when they did something to remind him that they weren't her he killed them. It's all there in his accounts."_

"_God," Mac sighed heavily, "That's a . . .," his words trailed off as he saw Adam head towards the door._

_Mac frowned as he took in the fearful expression on the young techs face._

"_What do you have Adam?"_

"_We got a hit," Adam mumbled, unable to look at either one of the CSI's, his gaze held steady in front of him._

"_That's good isn't it?" Stella asked._

"_Not really," Adam mumbled, closing his eyes for a moment, "The vic came back to an internal control sample."_

"_An internal . . . .?" Mac stopped talking as reality hit him, "Our internal control samples?" he asked, shocked, "How can that be?"_

_Adam handed him the profile, shuffling awkwardly._

_Mac's gaze scanned the sheet in front of him while Stella looked on in confusion._

"_Oh my god," Mac whispered, blinking before raising his eyes to Stella, "Where's Lindsay?" he asked._

_Just then they were interrupted by Danny tapping on the glass door. "Hey, anyone seen Montana?" he asked cheerfully._

_If it hadn't been for the fact that the three occupants in the room were reeling from shock, they might have had cause to wonder what had made Danny so happy. It was no secret that he'd been wracked with grief for weeks and as such had distanced himself from all of them._

_Mac was the first to recover._

"_I sent her out on a call," he said softly, "She'll be gone for a couple of hours I should think."_

"_Oh . . . oookay," Danny muttered, taking in the tense atmosphere in the room, "Anything you need me to do?"_

"_No. Just go home Danny, it will all still be here in the morning."_

_The younger man frowned before turning on his heel and making his way along the corridor, his thoughts absorbed by a range of possibilities that might be causing his boss to act weird._

"_I don't want him to be told about this. Not yet," Mac ordered, "Let's just keep it between the three of us until I can talk to Lindsay."_

"_Oh my god," Stella whispered, colour draining from her cheeks, "Lindsay . . . shit! . . ..I sent her to interview Michael's."_

8888888

Don Flack Jnr stretched his aching muscles as he prepared for his routine nightly workout in the NYPD gym. It was either this or a couple of beers to unwind at the end of a long day and tonight he was on call so the beers were out. He was always especially tense after visiting Danny.

Danny Messer hadn't worked at the crime lab for over three months and Don's only contact had been through his weekly visits to drop of information that might help Danny in his search for the truth. Not that Don hadn't already gone over all the new information at least three times before he even passed it onto Dan, he had searched and searched for any sign that would help them find her. Always he came up with nothing. His mind drifted as the treadmill sped up.

"_You ready for this?" Don asked with a smile._

"_Yeah," Lindsay replied, "Let's give this sucker a hard time."_

"_This I am looking forward to," Don laughed, stepping back to let Lindsay into the interrogation room, she really was very impressive when she was in full swing, he'd seen her make grown men weep._

_Lindsay stepped into the room, stopping in her tracks at the voice that greeted her._

"_Well hello Lindsay Monroe," Michaels whispered in a tone that pricked at her consciousness, something familiar in his tone, "Long time no see. I had hoped I would get the opportunity to see you again."_

_Lindsay looked at him sharply, her gaze narrowing as she tried to place him. There was something familiar about him but it was as though her mind was shutting down, blocking out a memory that would help her place him._

"_I don't know what . . ."_

_She struggled to gather her thoughts against the roar that was deafening her, the sound of her own blood pounding through vessels that threatened to burst at the pressure forced on them. She swayed as her skin paled dramatically. The last sound she heard was laughter, a chilling, cold sound that penetrated every fibre, every defence of her being._

_Don Flack felt a moment of alarm as he saw her legs crumble beneath her. He lurched forward, catching her before she hit the ground._

"_I NEED SOME HELP IN HERE!" he shouted as he lowered her body to the floor._

"_Linds," he said urgently, "It's okay I've got you," he whispered._

_He turned to shout again but the words stuck in his throat at the sound of pounding footsteps and a second later the vision of horrified expressions on the faces of Mac and Stella as they both skidded to a halt in the doorway._

_The only sound in the room still came from Michaels as everyone stopped, comprehension reaching some while others were still shrouded in confusion._

"_Get her out of here," Mac ordered, uncharacteristic panic in his tone. _

_Stella moved towards Don, reaching to shield Lindsay from Michaels gaze as Don lifted her into his arms and carried her from the room. _

8888888

Sarah took a deep breath as she stood outside of his door. She really didn't know what to expect but she'd found out a little about Danny Messer from her brother who still had connections on the force. Nick had carried out a few checks for her, making sure that the man she was going to see was not someone who was best left in the past.

Sarah hadn't been particularly worried anyway and the check had just been a precaution. She didn't want to bring anymore pain to the young woman who had touched her soul with her mysery. She wanted to help, wanted to heal and she'd known she wouldn't be able to do that if this young man was responsible for such pain. But he wasn't she was confident of that.

Her confidence seemed confirmed as the door swung open to reaveal the man in question. One detective Danny Messer stared back at her, the look of confusion on his expression overshadowed by the pain that clouded everything about him.

"Detective Messer?" Sarah asked as though she needed that confirmation.

"Who are you?" he responded in a flat tone as he took in the middle aged woman who looked as out of place in New York as he would on a farm herding cattle.

"My name is Sarah Smith," she replied, "I have something that I believe once belonged to you."

She took the box out of her pocket, fumbling with it slightly before handing it over to him.

"I own a jewellery store and this was brought in just the other day, I knew it was special, that it wasn't something that should be pawned for a few dollars. I knew that it meant something."

She knew she was rambling, that she really should just shut up and let the poor man get a word in edge ways.

Danny fingered the box for a moment before popping open the lid. Not that he needed to, he knew exactly what lay inside. But he couldn't help himself. Fear mixed with hope as he lifted the silver ring from the bed of foam that kept it secure in the tiny box. He lifted it up to the light where he could see the edges of the inscription, too tiny to be read by the naked eye. But Danny Messer didn't need to read it, he knew what it said.

One word that represented everything dear to him. It represented home.

"Montana," he whispered brokenly before tears broke through his resolve and escaped silently down his cheeks.


	2. Chapter 2

Sarah stepped forward into the room, turning slightly to push the door shut behind her. She moved quickly and efficiently, her hands reaching to lead the distraught man towards the couch behind him. She pushed him gently until his knees buckled and he landed heavily against the soft leather, his shoulders shaking and tears still coursing down his cheeks in silent tribute to his grief.

She sat next to him, her small hand sweeping softly against his muscular frame in a desperate attempt to bring calm. She let him cry it out, knowing that no words would bring comfort at that moment. She closed her eyes and willed her strength to hold steady for him. It was hard to explain why she was here, she didn't really understand it herself. All she knew was that she had to try something, had to try and help them in some small way, had to do what no-one had been able to do for her.

Danny swiped the back of his hand across his eyes and stared at the ring still clutched in his hand. He had so many questions, most of which he was scared to voice, terrified that the answer would take her further from him. He blinked before staring into the kindly expression of the woman next to him.

"What . . .? How . . . .?"

Sarah smiled softly at him before nodding in understanding.

"It was brought into my store a couple of weeks ago. Straight away I saw that it was a one off piece, invaluable to whoever commissioned it, to the person it was meant for. I couldn't bring myself to sell it. I wanted to know more so I went looking for who it belonged to. That's how I found you detective."

Danny attempted to shake off the fear that engulfed him. 

"I don't understand how someone got it from her," he frowned, "She always wore it, if not on her finger then on a chain around her neck. She loved this ring."

"Of course she did," Sarah said softly.

Before she could say anymore Danny buried his head in his hands.

"Oh god, someone hurt her didn't they?" he groaned, unable to keep the despair from his tone.

"Shh," Sarah soothed, her eyes scanning the room before landing on the photo on the wall.

She stared intently for a few moments before a small smile of relief lifted her lips briefly. The renewed shuddering from the man next to her drew her attention back to the purpose of her visit. She knew she had to end his torment.

"Nobody hurt her," she assured, "At least . . . not like that, no-one took the ring from her."

Danny's head snapped up sharply and a dark frown lay heavy on his features.

"How do you know? How the hell do you know? She would never willingly take this off, someone had to have taken it from her."

Sarah sighed heavily. 

"She did take it off detective, although I don't think it was willingly, I think it was the hardest thing she did."

Danny stared at her, desperately willing his mind to catch on quicker than it was at that moment.

"The reason I know," Sarah said, glancing at the picture on the wall, compelling Danny's gaze to follow the direction of her look, "Is because the young woman that brought it into my store is the same woman in that picture on your wall."

Danny blinked at her in surprise, a thousand thoughts running through his mind all at once.

"She . . . .? You've seen her?" he asked, his mouth agape.

A short nod was the only response.

"Nah," he said, shaking his head, "she wouldn't have done that," he frowned, "Lindsay wouldn't have sold the ring, she wouldn't . . . . ."

"She didn't sell it," Sarah butted in insistently, "It was collateral against a loan, is all."

"Oh god, she's alive?" Danny asked, his eyes searching.

Another nod.

"She is," Sarah sighed heavily, "But she seems . . . . she's lost, I guess that's why I wanted to help her."

"Where is she?" Danny asked frantically, jumping to his feet, ready to charge out of his apartment.

"She's safe," Sarah said, moving towards him calmly, "And I will take you to her . . . . . eventually."

"What the hell do ya mean eventually?" Danny shouted, his accent thickened by his anger and frustration, "She needs me . . . . I . . . I . . ."

His shoulders slumped dejectedly, as though the thought that she'd survived that past few months without him had just entered his mind. After all, if she hadn't been taken from him against her will then it must have been her choice.

"You're right," Sarah said soothingly, "I think she does need you, I'm just not sure she's ready to admit it and you storming in there is not going to help. She needs you to be calm."

Danny hesitated, then sighed heavily before raking his fingers through his hair. 

"I just . . . ."

"It's okay," Sarah said softly, before glancing at the clock on the wall, "We have a couple of hours yet."

"A coupla hours?"

"Until the train leaves, it'll only take a few hours so we should be there before dark."

"You're takin me to her?" Danny asked, surprise etched across his features.

"I'm taking you to her," Sarah replied.

88888888

Danny ignored his phone for the third time in the past hour. Flack really was a persistent fucker. He couldn't face his friend right now, couldn't face telling him what he was doing. The last time he'd been in a position to help her, their friends had seen fit to make it impossible for him to do so. He was doing this alone.

"Soooo," he said slowly, "Tell me why yer doin this."

The woman sitting opposite him in the train carriage shrugged lightly.

"She needed help."

"You expect me to believe you just took pity on her? A stranger?" he asked, his lack of belief evident in his tone.

She shrugged again. "Reminded me of someone."

"Yeah?"

A nod.

"That's it? That's all ya givin me?"

"For the moment," she replied simply.

Danny let his head rest back against the seat, closing his eyes as his fingers brushed lightly against the box in his pocket.

"_Danny what are you doing?" she squealed as he moved in behind her covering her eyes._

"_I told ya Montana, no peeking."_

_Lindsay leaned back into him, enjoying the feel of his body pressed into her soft curves. They'd only been together a few months but already she knew he was hers for keeps. _

_She relaxed as she felt the cool breeze drift across her body, an involuntary shiver running through her._

"_Let me warm ya up," Danny whispered, she could hear the smirk in his voice._

"_Always," she replied._

"_Keep your eyes closed Montana," he ordered as he let his hand slip from over her eyes._

"'_kay," she sighed, enjoying the feel of his hands running over her body before his arms wrapped around her._

_His lips trailed soft kisses against her neck, causing her breath to hitch in her throat._

"_Okay," he whispered, "You can open them now."_

_She did as she was told, blinking as a slow smile crossed her features. The rooftop they were standing on gave them a perfect view of the city, the twinkling lights around them adding to the magical quality that had engulfed her since the day began. _

"_Happy anniversary," he whispered softly._

"_Anniversary?" she asked, turning in his arms with a frown of confusion._

"_Two years, three months," he glanced at his watch, "eleven hours and thirty seven minutes," he said with a smirk, "Since the day you walked into my life._

"_Oh wow, that's an anniversary?" she asked, laughing lightly._

_He shrugged. "Not yet," he said with a smile, "But next year it will be."_

"_Next year?" she asked, still confused, "An anniversary of what?"_

_He dropped a brief kiss to her open mouth before reaching into his pocket and lifting out a small, square box._

"_Since this," he said simply, flipping the lid and revealing the simple cut diamond and silver ring._

_She was speechless, her mouth opening and closing but no sound coming out._

"_Now don't get all excited," he said with a nervous cough, "I'm not asking you to marry me."_

"_You're not?" she asked, frowning._

_She had to admit she'd been shocked, she knew Danny's view on weddings; pointless, unnecessary and ultimately an event that was designed to cause stress, fights and an unhealthy bank balance._

"_Nope," he said, "I'm not. I'm asking you for more than that."_

"_More?" she asked, her brow arching questioningly._

"_I'm asking for forever," he said simply._

"_Oh!" she gasped, her eyes locking with his as her breath hitched in her throat._

"_I love you Montana," he said softly, "Will you be mine?"_

"_Forever?" she asked, blinking._

"_Forever," he replied, nodding._

_She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly to her, tears now streaming down her face._

The ring had only stayed on her finger for one night before being hung on the chain around her neck, neither one ready to share with the rest of the world. A little over twelve hours later a child was dead and the ring was not spoken of again. 

Every now and then he would catch a glimpse of it nestled close to her heart, hooked onto the sliver chain around her neck. Every now and then he would be reminded of the promise he'd made to her that night, a promise he now vowed to make good.

At the time he'd thought she understood. In fact he was certain she realised his need for space was not about her, that what he needed was to know she was there, to know that when he was ready she'd be there with him.

But now he was full of doubt. Maybe he hadn't been clear, maybe she'd left because she'd felt shut out, maybe she'd thought he didn't love her enough. He shuddered at the thought; nothing could be farther from the truth.

8888888

"Where the fuck is he?" Flack growled in frustration.

Stella placed a calming hand on his forearm, fingers drifting to draw against the inside of his wrist. 

"We don't know this is anything to worry about," she said, not sure whether to believe her own words.

"Dammit Stell, he's gone AWOL yet again and we know someone has been doing background checks on him and Lindsay. How weird is that?"

"I know," she sighed, "Look, let's just trace his phone, find out where he is."

8888888

Sarah's home town was nothing like he'd seen before, the sleepy community in upstate New York was surrounded by a combination of gingerbread cottages, brick town houses, and an old court house with the police department on one level inside. 

To Danny Messer it was like going back in time, although not within his own reality. He suppressed a shudder as he was reminded of an old 1970's horror movie. In all honesty the town was probably very pretty but with daylight drawing to a close and his sombre mood, all Danny wanted was to find Lindsay and get the hell out of there before Michael Myers jumped out from behind the trees that seemed to line the whole town. 

Shaking himself out of his thoughts he walked to the check in desk of the only hotel in town. Sarah had called ahead and booked him a room, dropping him off before heading home. As much as Danny wanted to find Lindsay right away, he was grateful for the hours he had to think about what he would say to her.

8888888

"What the hell is he doing here?" Don growled in frustration as he followed Stella down the embankment and along the path that led to a row of exclusive boutique shops.

"That's what we're about to find out Don," Stella replied in a cool tone.

They'd driven half the night to track down their wayward friend, eventually stopping in the remote town of Kendell, population 1,050. Flack had never been anywhere so small, he was sure Danny hadn't either.

They'd both breathed a small sigh of relief when they'd seen Danny crossing the street towards the local coffee shop, as far as they could tell he was there of his own free will, as puzzling as it may be.

"Why's he going into a jewellery store?" Stella muttered almost to herself.

"How's about we go and find out?" Don said cracking a smile.

"Sounds like a plan."

888888

"You need to try and calm down," Sarah said soothingly, "You don't want to frighten her."

Danny took a deep breath, knowing that any minute Lindsay Monroe was due to walk through the door. At first he'd been pissed at Sarah for refusing to tell him where Lindsay was staying, but after he'd thought about it she realised the older woman was just looking out for her. For all she knew Danny was the reason Lindsay had left.

"Sorry," he sighed, "I just wanna know she's okay ya know?"

"I do, but she'll be here, her first payment is due today and she starts work in an hour. I don't know her that well but I trust that she'll be here," Sarah said softly, "Now drink your tea."

8888888

"Oh my god," Stella whispered, grabbing Flack by the wrist and pulling him back against the wall of the building they had been about to enter, "Is that . . . . .?"

Don's head snapped up in the direction Stella was pointing to and his mouth dropped open in surprise.

"Oh my god it is," Stella whispered, "It's Lindsay."

She was about to step out into the younger woman's line of vision when she was pulled back.

"Let Danny handle this," Don said softly, "You know what happened last time . . . ."

Stella closed her eyes briefly, remembering the consequences of them shutting Danny out before. She nodded briefly, her gaze never wavering from the woman who was heading towards the jewellery shop.

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Lindsay Monroe walked briskly towards the row of shops, head bend and her hands jammed into the deep pockets of her jacket. Her gaze was fixed firmly in front of her, mostly on the ground, trusting that anyone in her way would move before she ploughed into them. 

Her clothes hung loosely on her body, all too big for her slight frame. If she had looked up at anyone approaching they would have been startled to see such a young woman looking so hollow. Anyone who knew her would have been struck speechless by the air of defeat that hung over her. 

Before she reached the door she stopped suddenly and for the first time she looked up, her gaze scanning her surroundings, her expression betraying the sudden fear that engulfed her.

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The two detectives watched as she hesitated. The breath that held in Stella's throat was let out on a whoosh as Lindsay turned suddenly on her heel and made her way back from where she'd come only moments before.

"No, no, no," Stella whispered, taking a step forward.

This time Don Flack didn't try and stop her, instead falling in step beside her. They both spotted the signs of someone about to run, had both seen it a hundred times before. Don picked up his pace.

"Lindsay," he called, trying to keep his voice steady, trying not to frighten her.

Her step didn't even falter. If anything she seemed to speed up. Don quickened his pace until he caught up with her, Stella still a few paces behind.

"Lindsay."

He didn't see the fist flying at him until it was too late. Despite her outward frailty she still managed to cast a glancing blow to the side of his jaw that left his head spinning.

Stella was stunned as she watched Lindsay blindly lash out, her eyes almost unseeing in what Stella could only assume to be a grip of panic that she was caught in. 

Lindsay didn't recognise the voice that should have been all too familiar to her. All she knew was that she had to get away, some unknown force telling her to flee, that whatever she was going to find here, it wouldn't be good. She broke into a run, her heart pounding in her chest, the call of the woman behind her unheard.

"MONTANA!"

Her step faltered at the sound of the broad New York accent. She stumbled as her feet continued in their forward motion at the same time as her mind screamed at her to stop. A wrenching sob was ripped from her throat as strong arms wrapped around her.

"It's okay, I've got you, I've got you," the voice whispered hoarsely.

She felt herself being pulled against a hard chest, warm hands clutching her face in a tight grip, forcing her to look into the stormy ocean blue gaze that held strong. She closed her eyes tightly as tears began to course down her face. 

"It's okay," he whispered, pulling her head against his shoulder, his fingers lacing through her hair as he felt the dampness of her tears against his skin.

Arms that had hung limply by her sides reached to clasp strong shoulders, pushing back and holding on at the same time, conflicting her natural fight or flight reflexes. 

"No, no, no," she whispered over and over, her mind eventually settling on the need to get away. "I can't . . . . . I can't . . ."

Danny leaned back to once again look into her eyes. "You have to," he said, his tone almost pleading.

"No," she said again, shaking her head almost violently, "You have to let me go."

"I can't do that Linds," Danny said softly, his hands moving to her upper arms and giving her a gentle shake, "I _won't_ do that," he added more firmly.

Her eyes locked with his and for a moment it was as though everything around them had stopped.

"I don't want to . . . .," she whispered, her voice small and unable to find the words to explain what she was scared of.

"Don't leave me again," he whispered brokenly, "Please . . . don't leave," he added with more force, arching his brow in direct challenge, his expression softened by the tell tale shine of moisture in his eyes.

As suddenly as it had come, the fight left her body, her frame sagging into him so he had no choice but to gather her up against him. 

As he turned to take her inside their friends caught the determined set of his jaw. They stood back and let him pass, neither one understanding what had just happened but both knowing that Lindsay's only chance was the man who held her firmly in his arms.


	3. Chapter 3

**I still don't own anything to do with CSI NY!**

**Thank you all for your lovely comments and feedback. I am definitely continuing with this and have it all clearly mapped out. :D**

* * *

She tried to fight the fog that filled her mind as she rose to the surface of consciousness, the muted sound of voices filtering through the partially opened door causing a frown of confusion across her brow. She blinked and looked around her, noting the unfamiliar furnishings that filled the room, from the large bed on which she lay to the old fashioned wardrobe along the far wall.

She didn't know where she was. Fear gripped her as she lifted her head and tried to move from her resting spot, her heart hammering in her chest. She was tired, her whole body aching with a renewed pain that confused and comforted at the same time. It was the first real pain she'd felt in months. 

She sat on the edge of the bed, straining to recognise the voices in the hall, blinking as realisation penetrated her mind. She closed her eyes and fell back against the pillows, welcoming the moment to remember, welcoming the faint tinge of relief that came with the sound of his voice. 

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"Dammit Danny," Flack sighed, "You can't deal with this on your own, she needs help."

"And she'll get help," the other man growled, "From me."

"Danny," Stella said softly, her hand resting calmingly on his forearm, "You saw her. That was not a normal reaction; it was the reaction of someone in acute distress. She needs professional help, we have to take her back to the city and make sure she gets what she needs."

"I'm not taking her anywhere until I know what's going on with her," Danny said pointedly, "I just need a few days and then . . . .," he hesitated a moment before continuing, "and then if I think it's what's best I'll bring her home."

"If _you_ think it's best?" Don asked, arching his brow, "what makes you qualified?"

Danny took a menacing step towards his friend. "Look!" he shouted, "I know you think I'm a complete fuck up, I know you all think that, . ."

"None of us think that Danny," Stella cut in quickly, "It's just you're emotional and maybe not thinking straight . . . ."

"If you didn't all think that Stella then we wouldn't be in this position," Danny growled, pacing agitatedly, "If you had trusted me all those months ago then maybe she would never have gone."

"I can understand you thinking that Dan," Don interjected, "But this is so much bigger than you. Sure, everything that happened between the two of you at the time probably didn't help but the trigger here was Michaels, it had to be."

"Of course it was fucking Michaels," Danny said, "I know you all think I didn't treat her right, and I probably didn't. But what none of you realise is that she got it, she got _me_. We were good, not the best at the time but we were fucking good."

He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration.

"Danny . . ."

"No Stella," he bit out, "I'm not listening to this shit, I am gonna do whatever Lindsay needs me to do, I'm not listening to anymore of this."

With that he turned on his heel, back to the open doorway, walking through and pushing the door shut with a finality that was befitting his words.

"We need to call Mac," Stella said.

"Yeah," Flack replied, "Maybe if we leave them for today, talk to him again in the morning, try and talk to Linds."

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She feigned sleep, unable to comprehend that he was really there, that he was no longer just a distant memory, a dream that only came to her in sleep. 

Danny watched her for a moment, detecting the change in her breathing, knowing that she was no longer asleep but suspecting she didn't know how to deal with him being there. He took the opportunity to look at her properly.

She'd lost weight, her usual curves slightly less accentuated, her skin pale, dark circles formed beneath each eye giving her a haunted quality that he would do anything to take away. He felt an involuntary smile tug at his lips as he took in her hair that fell in waves around her face. It reminded him of when they first met, or at least when she'd finally given up trying to tame her unruly curls with a set of straightening irons. 

"_Keep your eyes closed," she ordered._

"_Remind me again why I'm doing this?" he asked, a grin on his face as he imagined her expression._

"_I'm scared," she replied._

"_Of what?" he asked, his brow knotting together in a frown as he shook his head in confusion._

"_Of you not liking it."_

"_Why won't I like it Montana?" he asked._

"_Because you liked it before and this is so different, it's more New York than Montana."_

"_More city than country?" he asked, his grin widening._

"_I guess," she sighed._

_Hearing the dejection in her voice he took a step towards her, bumping the coffee table and cursing loudly, but still he didn't open his eyes. Lindsay couldn't help the giggle that rose in her throat at the sight of him, risking life and limb in his own living room just to do as she asked and keep his eyes closed._

"_Baby," he whispered when he reached her, his hands taking hold of hers, "It's your hair and I'll love it whatever you've done to it."_

_She felt a smile tug at her lips, a smile that faltered when she saw his frown deepen._

"_What?" she asked nervously._

"_You do still have hair don't you?" he asked, "Don't tell me you got it all shaved off Montana?" he said with a teasing growl._

"_Idiot," she sighed, slapping his chest lightly._

"_Hey," he said, grabbing her hand and squeezing it gently, "Maybe I should touch it first."_

_Lindsay stayed where she was as his hands trailed up her arms, his fingers brushing lightly against her neck and causing her to shiver. She closed her eyes as she felt his hands press lightly against her now smooth tresses, fingers running through the silken strands._

"_That's good," he said, smiling._

"_What is?"_

"_I can still run my fingers through it," he replied as he cupped her head gently in his hands._

"_You can," she whispered, blinking as she saw his face coming towards her._

_Even with his eyes closed it was as though his lips found hers by some magnetic force, hitting their target precisely and capturing her breath in a matter of seconds. The kiss went on for several moments, by which time his hands and snaked around her waist, pulling her body close to his._

_It took her a moment to gather her thoughts after they'd pulled apart, another moment to realise that he was looking straight at her, the Messer grin firmly in place and a spark of desire in his eye._

"_Damn Miss Monroe," he sighed, "You're beautiful, your hair is beautiful."_

"_Really?" she asked, a toothy grin forming on her face._

He watched her now, seeing the curls that once again framed her face and he was glad. Not that he had a particular preference for either look, but somehow seeing her like this reminded him of a time when things between them were less complicated, less painful. Not that things were ever _not_ complicated between them, but before the worst of it had been in the past, and the worst of it hadn't been influenced by one another. There had always been hope and as much as he was now clinging onto the last vestiges of optimism for their future, he was scared, really scared.

"Hey," he whispered, unable to keep the slightly choked quality out of his voice, "open your eyes for me Montana."

His fingers brushed lightly against the side of her face, reaching up to trace the frown lines that burrowed deeper at his words. She sighed deeply and opened her eyes, staring into the intensity of his gaze. She blinked back the tears that always seemed to be a second away.

"Hey," she whispered, pushing herself into an upright position.

"You okay?" he asked gently.

"I'm not sure to be honest," she replied, her eyes still locked with his, caught up in the comfort and warmth that she found there.

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to," he said, "we can take our time."

"Anything?" she asked, unable to keep the challenge from her tone, "Except leave of course."

Danny regarded her silently for a moment before responding. "Oh you can leave Montana," he said softly, "If that's what you really want," he added before sighing heavily, "but you have to convince me first."

She looked away, her gaze drifting to her fingers that were fiddling with the blanket that covered her. 

"Looks like I'll be sticking around then," she said quietly, her eyes once again moving to his face.

Danny let out the breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. "That's good," he said softly.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that."

"We'll agree to disagree then," he said simply.

Silence stretched between them for several minutes. 

"Where are we?" Lindsay asked eventually.

"Hotel."

She nodded. 

"You hungry?"

She shrugged noncommittally.

"I'll get something sent up," Danny said, shifting from the bed and reaching for the in room menu. 

"I can't go back," she said hurriedly.

Danny stopped, his back towards her, fear gripping him. He didn't know if she just meant she couldn't go back to New York or if she couldn't go back to him.

"To the city?" he asked, turning slowly.

She nodded, tears once again filling her eyes. He let out a sigh of relief, at least she wasn't cutting him off just yet. He moved back to the bed and when she made no sign of resistance he crawled up next to her and wrapped her in his arms.

"You don't have to go back," he said softly, hugging her tightly, enjoying the feel of her arms as they snaked around him.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," he replied, "I told you, you don't have to do anything."

"You sure about that?" she asked, "You sure they're not gonna make me?"

They both knew what she was talking about. It wouldn't take too much for their friends to act if they thought it was in her best interests. They meant well, despite Danny's anger towards them, he knew that. They all cared about her, loved her in their own way, but none of them knew her, not like he did.

"I won't let them," he whispered, brushing his lips against her forehead.

Lindsay clutched onto him more tightly. "Take me away," she whispered into his neck.

Danny pulled back, looking at her questioningly.

"From here?" he asked.

Lindsay nodded. "From all of it."

Danny sighed, pulling her against him once again. "If that's what you want Montana, then that's what I'll do."

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"Stupid, reckless sonofabitch!" Donald Flack Jnr declared, slamming the hotel room door in frustration. "Does he not get it? Does he not understand he could be doing more harm than good?"

"Calm down Don," Stella sighed for what seemed like the hundredth time in the past twenty four hours, "Let's go and speak to the owner of the jewellery store and see if she knows where they've gone."

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"Where are we?" Lindsay asked as she stretched, looking out onto the view surrounding them as the 1969 Chevrolet they were driving coughed and spluttered its way through the mountainous terrain.

"Catskills," Danny replied with a smile, "trout . . ."

". . . . fishing central," Lindsay finished for him.

He watched her out of the corner of his eye, seeking acknowledgement, but she just gazed out of the window. 

"Sarah's brother's place is just another couple of miles up here," Danny said, "if we ever make it," he growled as the car lurched ominously when he put his foot on the gas.

"It was kind of her to help us," Lindsay said softly.

"I still say we shoulda taken Flack's SUV," Danny complained.

Lindsay frowned as she scrutinised his profile.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked.

"Umm," he said thoughtfully, before his gaze drifted to hers, eyes narrowing teasingly, "because you asked me Montana?"

"I'm serious," she sighed, letting her head roll back against the seat, "I don't understand why you would even want to do this for me."

"That's not true," he said simply, "you know exactly why I'm doing this."

They lapsed into silence once again.

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Mac Taylor hung up the phone and ran his hand across tired eyes with a groan. To say he was relieved that Lindsay was alive and well was an understatement, but his relief was matched in equal parts by frustration and a sense that the one thing he prided himself on was slipping through his fingers. Control, he needed to get back in control.

He closed his eyes and thought for a moment before leaning forward and snatching up the phone.

"Bonasera," Stella answered after one ring.

"I need you back here," Mac said pointedly.

"What's up?"

"Hawkes and the new girl are run ragged and my three most experienced CSI's are running around New York State on some sort of mercy mission."

"But Danny needs . . . ."

"Needs us to trust him," Mac sighed, "Danny needs us to trust him Stell._ I_ need you here."

He hung up, his own words mocking him. _Trust Danny_. If only he had. 

"_How is she?" Mac asked Sheldon Hawkes as he waited outside the morgue antae room._

"Conscious," Hawkes replied, "And a little too calm for my liking."

"Can I see her?"

"Sure," Hawkes said with a shrug, "But take it easy with her."

"Of course," Mac said, stepping into the room.

"Hey Mac," Lindsay said with a smile as her boss entered the room.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, I really don't know what happened in there, but I'm fine," she said, her eyes not leaving his face, "really."

Mac gave a slight nod in acknowledgement of her words.

"You know that man?" he asked, gesturing with his head to some distant part of the lab.

"Michaels?" she asked, blinking slightly, "Never seen him before."

At Mac's frown she sighed heavily.

"Look," she said softly, "I know it doesn't make sense but I . . . ."

"We found your DNA," Mac said simply.

"Where?"

"The hair samples he gave us."

"The samples from his vics?" Lindsay asked.

"Yes."

"I don't see how that's possible. Maybe this is connected to an old case or something, maybe I was investigating something to do with him and that's how he knows me. He's obviously unbalanced, it's like this is some sort of game to him."

"I guess it's possible," Mac answered, "Listen," he said, pausing for a moment, "You mind if I get Stella in here to talk you through some of the diary entries, there may be a connection."

"Sure," Lindsay shrugged, "But I've already seen the diary entries and nothing jumped out at me."

"Stella said you only saw half of them, besides you weren't looking at it as though there was a link to your past. I'd like you to talk it through with someone, maybe it will trigger a memory," Mac said, "an old case or . . . . something."

"Okay."

Mac went in search of Stella, looking through the lab and catching sight of her talking with Hawkes, Adam and Flack in her office. They looked up as he entered the room.

"You okay to go over the diary entries with Lindsay?" he asked, looking at Stella.

"Of course," the woman replied, "how is she?"

"Fine," Mac answered, "which is what's worrying me. You'll need to go easy with her, but at the moment she says she has no knowledge of ever having met Michaels before."

The two went to leave the office but just as Mac was about to walk through the door Hawkes stopped him.

"Danny called," he said simply, "He's looking for Lindsay."

"What did you tell him?"

"That she was interrogating a suspect."

"Good," Mac nodded, "I don't want him anywhere near this."

He turned on his heel and caught up with Stella.

"Are you sure that's the right play?" Stella asked, having heard the exchange, "He obviously cares about her."

"We both know things haven't been right between them since Ruben died," Mac said, "He's too emotional right now and we don't even know if she wants him here. If she asks for him that's a different matter but until then . . . . ."

"That's what worries me," Stella muttered under her breath as he walked away, "she'll never ask."

Mac stared out over the city. He was never one for the sentimentality of regret but now here he was wishing with everything he had that he could turn back time and do things differently. No matter how indirectly, his actions that day had caused pain, and had caused him to lose two of the best CSI's he'd ever had.

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"You a'right?" Danny asked as Lindsay looked around the cabin that was going to be home for the foreseeable future.

"Sure," she said with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Why don't you go lie down while I put this stuff away," he said, indicating the groceries they'd picked up on route.

She wasn't really tired but nodded in agreement anyway. Truth be told, the tension was getting to her. They both knew they needed to talk but were each guilty of avoiding the inevitable.

Danny sighed and ran his fingers through his hair as he watched her make her way into the bedroom. 

"Shit!"

He didn't have a clue what he was doing. "What kind of fucking idiot are you?" he asked himself.

He didn't even know what she remembered and she certainly wasn't giving anything away. He got that everyone thought she'd repressed some terrible thing that had happened to her and that seeing Michaels that day had brought it all back. But what he didn't get was the fact that she was happy to just slip back into the groove of being with him, no questions asked.

The very least he'd expected when he finally found her was some sort of instant explanation, maybe not everything but something at least, something that could help him understand why she'd been gone so long.

Maybe Flack was right, maybe he was biting off more than he could chew. He stared helplessly around him for several more minutes before eventually shaking off his thoughts. She needed him. It was simple really.


	4. Chapter 4

**Thank you all for the lovely reviews. Sorry I haven't responded to them all but I've been kinda busy and just wanted to get this up tonight. Things will become clearer in the next chapter so this is just the build up to that. Just D/L here but the other's will pop up in later chapters as there are other issues to be resolved, particularly between Danny and Mac.**

* * *

A shrill scream pierced the air of the tiny cabin forcing Danny Messer from his quiet slumber

A shrill scream pierced the air of the tiny cabin forcing Danny Messer from his quiet slumber. He shot up from the couch, instantly making his way towards the sound, ignoring the darkness that engulfed him, ignoring all but the hammering of his heart that drove him forwards.

He ran his hand along the inside of the bedroom wall, seeking the switch that seconds later illuminated her figure lying restlessly across the rumpled bed, swathed in a light sheen of sweat as she battled whichever of her demons had visited her in sleep. She fought as he dragged her against his chest.

"Shh," he whispered, securing his hold on her, "Linds baby, it's me, it's Danny."

Her eyes snapped open and she whimpered softly. "Danny?" she whispered, as though he was the last person she expected to see. "Where am I? Why are you here?" She again tried to push him away but still he held fast.

"It's okay," he insisted, grasping her face in his hands, forcing her to focus on him.

Lindsay blinked a couple of times before realisation dawned and she knew where she was.

"Oh god," she sighed, taking a deep shuddering breath.

She closed her eyes as she tried to calm her wayward thoughts, focusing instead on the sensation of his fingers caressing her face and running absently through her hair.

"You're okay," he said softly.

"Just a dream," she nodded, once again allowing her gaze to drift to his face.

Their eyes locked, stormy blue meeting deep brown; the quest for truth coming up against dark secrets.

"Danny," she whispered, seeing the questions behind his stare and feeling perilously close to tears.

"You wanna talk about it Montana?"

In the small shake of her head he found his answer. He pulled her back towards him, tilting her head to rest against his chest, offering comfort but also not wanting her to see the disappointment in his eyes.

Lindsay clutched the front of his shirt in her hand, needing something to hold onto yet feeling she had no right to him. Really, it was all she could do to stop herself from pressing against him.

She felt the warm flutter of his lips as he dropped a light kiss to the top of her head. Her heart hitched in her throat as a second later she felt his breath against her ear, the sensation causing her eyes to flutter closed as a tingling memory engulfed her.

"Danny," she whispered, unable to keep the need out of her voice, unable to stop the trembling that was taking over her body.

"Montana," he said simply, his hands moving to soothe against her arms, "It's okay . . ."

His words of comfort were cut off by the touch of her lips against his. Danny felt his breath hitch at the insistent pressure of her mouth, leaving him no choice but to open up to her. Their tongues tangled, gently at first. Moments later she was clambering against him, pressing her body to his with just the right amount of pressure in just the right places. Danny groaned as he pulled back sharply, dragging his lips from hers.

"We can't," he growled, shaking his head in an effort to convince himself as well as her.

"Why not?" she asked, blinking in confusion.

"You know why," Danny said, frowning as he looked deep into her eyes.

"You don't want me?" she asked, her voice sounding small.

Danny let out a short bark of laughter. "Yeah," he replied, his accent thickening with sarcasm, "that would be why."

Lindsay pulled back from him, pushing at his chest in an attempt to move out of reach.

"I was joking Linds," Danny said quickly, "you know I want you, I've always wanted you. But we need to talk, I don't wanna just jump into bed with you, I wanna help you, I want . . . ."

"You can't help me," she said quickly, "No-one can."

He felt her shutting down, pulling back both literally and figuratively. He watched as she clambered off the bed and stepped into the bathroom, shutting the door firmly behind her.

"I can't help if you don't talk to me," he whispered to himself, "Dammit!" he cursed, the feeling of helplessness once again engulfing him.

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Standing in the shadow of the setting sun he looked out across the lake, seeing the sparkling reflection of the moon rising in the distance. He knew he should go back inside but in all honesty he didn't have a clue what to say to her. It was obvious she was happy to live in a state of denial, to pretend that everything between them was normal. But he couldn't do that.

His heart ached to reach out to her but as usual she kept pushing him away. All he knew was that he had to keep on trying, he wouldn't give up now. He'd already given up too much. She was his, he was hers and he was going to make damn sure nothing came between them again. With a deep sigh he turned back to the cabin.

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She dragged the comb through the damp tresses of her hair, her movements rough and erratic. She didn't know why she was here, why she'd come so willingly. Nothing had prepared her for the sense of failure, the utter helplessness that she felt right now.

Ever since she'd heard his voice, calling to her through the desperation and panic she'd felt when confronted by Flack and Stella, she'd felt comforted, she'd felt home. But now she knew, as much as she wanted to pretend that these past months hadn't happened, he just wouldn't let her. She'd been a fool not to realise it sooner.

But Lindsay Monroe was nobody's fool. She'd known all along that he'd want answers, she'd just taken advantage of his momentary relief to find comfort with him one final time. But all it had done was remind her what she'd first realised the day that Michaels had come back into her life; she wasn't good enough, she'd never be good enough.

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"_Hey Linds," Stella said with a smile as she entered the room, "You ready for this?"_

_Lindsay eyed the journals Stella held in her arms. "Sure," she muttered with a shrug._

_Stella sat next to the couch where Lindsay lay. As the younger woman started to move, she placed a restraining hand on her arm._

"_Stay where you are," she said quickly, "Sheldon wants you lying down for a little longer, just to be on the safe side."_

"_I'm fine Stell."_

"_Doctor's orders," Stella said with a smile, "Come on, how often do you get to lie down on this job?"_

"_Good point," Lindsay replied, falling back against the cushions behind her._

"_So," Stella began, "How do you want to do this? You can read through the entries you didn't see earlier or I can describe them to you."_

"_I don't mind."_

_Green eyes met brown, searching for something. Met with blank enquiry, Stella shrugged lightly._

"_I'll read."_

_Lindsay watched as Stella rifled through the books in search of the one she was looking for, discarding the others to the floor for the moment._

"_Okay," Stella began, taking a breath before launching into a recital of the words in front of her. "12__th__ February 1993; today she finally came to me, just like I knew she would. I'd waited for nearly a year, watching from afar, seeing the beautiful misery that lay wretched around her, choking the very life out of her. I knew the subtle hints would eventually get through to the older woman, her mother. I knew she would bring her to me, unable to stand by and watch as her precious child was suffocated by guilt and grief. Today was the day I would finally find peace . . ."_

_A strangled intake of breath forced Stella's head up sharply, her eyes suddenly taking in the pale, drawn features of the young woman in front of her._

"_Linds? You okay?"_

_Eyes tightly shut against the sudden rush of pain in her head; the sudden need for air, Lindsay shook her head lightly._

"_I need air," she said, opening her eyes and shifting slowly in an attempt to measure and control the wave of dizziness that engulfed her. _

"_Let me get Sheldon," Stella said, rising quickly to help her._

"_It's okay Stell," Lindsay insisted, surprisingly steady as she stood, "I just need a few minutes," the look she gave was pleading for understanding, "I'll be fine."_

"_I'll come with you," Stella said softly, concern marring her features._

"_It's okay," Lindsay said, "to tell you the truth I think I just need a few minutes on my own. I won't go far, just outside to take a breath."_

"_A few minutes," Stella said, nodding, "then I'm coming to find you."_

_Lindsay gave her a half smile, a move to reassure. Stella wasn't convinced, but she knew to crowd her at this moment would likely force her to shut down entirely. Standing back, the older woman reached out to squeeze her shoulder lightly before watching her leave the room. A move she would come to regret over the coming months. _

_888888_

She watched as he moved around the tiny kitchen. She leaned against the doorframe, taking in every detail of him, banking it into her memory so she would have something to hold onto; an image to draw on when her heart would once again be torn in two.

He jumped a little, startled at the voice behind him.

"I missed you so much."

He turned, taking in her freshly showered appearance, the pain and misery etched clearly across her face. He placed the pan he was holding onto the stove before taking the few short steps towards her.

She watched as he neared, taking in the worried frown that knotted his brow, the blue eyes clouded with worry and fear.

"I missed you too," he whispered when he finally stopped in front of her.

She reached out to run her fingers through his hair, the short bristles causing the tips of her fingers to tingle lightly.

"So short," she said, her eyes fixed on the top of his head. The last time she'd seen him, his hair had been longer.

"Easier to look after," he said simply, never taking his eyes from her.

She let out a choked laugh. "You are such a girl Messer."

His face relaxed into a grin, "I'd offer ta prove ya wrong but I got dinner to cook," he said with a dramatic sigh.

Lindsay giggled. "Poor baby," she said softly.

Before she could say any more she was pulled into his arms, his touch firm as he held her to him. She clung on, suddenly never wanting to let go, even though she knew she would have to.

"I didn't mean to upset you," he whispered gruffly.

"It's okay," she insisted, enjoying the sensation of his arms around her, his familiar scent teasing her senses.

She buried her face in his neck, breathing him in, silently asking for his strength to help her do what was necessary. Eventually she pulled back, her eyes locking with his.

"I know I owe you an explanation," she whispered, closing her eyes briefly against the expectancy in his expression, "and I will give it to you. We'll talk, but can we please just have tonight? I just need tonight."

His eyes narrowed for a moment, as though he would find all the answers he needed in the look she was giving him right now. She breathed a sigh of relief at his next words.

"Whatever ya need Montana," he said simply.

"Thank you," she whispered, hugging him to her once more.

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Dinner had been eaten, the dishes cleared. He allowed himself a moment to glance in her direction, taking in the sight of her curled up on the couch, her head lolling against the cushions. Taking a deep breath he moved towards her.

"Hey," he said softly as he knelt down in front of her, "Let's get you ta bed."

"Hey," she said with a sleepy smile, "I don't know why I'm so tired."

"It's been an emotional coupla days," he said simply as he leaned forward and scooped her up into his arms.

"Hey!" she protested, "I do have legs you know."

"Oh I know Montana," he drawled, his eyes scanning her body lazily, "and what a fine pair they are."

"Idiot," she laughed softly as she snuggled against him for the short distance it took to the bedroom.

He deposited her on the bed. "What d'ya need?" he asked enquiringly, eyes scanning her frame clad in sweats and an oversized shirt.

"Nothing," she said softly, wriggling in an attempt to remove the sweats.

Danny groaned lightly as the shapely legs he'd commented on only a moment before were revealed to him. He watched as she settled back under the covers.

"Okay then," he said, leaning forward and brushing a light kiss against her brow, "I'll see ya in the mornin'," he drawled.

"Where are you going?"

"Couch," he said simply.

"Stay," she insisted.

"Mon-ta-na," he sighed, "I don't think . . . ."

"Just . . . . Lay with me . . . please," she said, unable to keep the pleading tone from her voice.

Danny groaned dramatically. "You make it impossible to say no, ya know that?" he grumbled as he dragged his shirt over his head before kicking off his jeans.

As he sank into the bed beside her she rolled automatically into his arms, snuggling against him tightly. She sighed before dropping a kiss to his shoulder. Moments later she was asleep, leaving Danny to contemplate the ceiling as his thoughts ran around his head.

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She watched as he slept, grateful to see that he still slept as deeply as before, she had depended on that. She didn't want to go but knew she had no choice, taking a breath she leaned in and brushed a whisper of a kiss to his hairline, barely touching. He didn't stir.

She quietly and quickly made her way towards the front door, picking up the keys to the car as she went. She was relying on him staying asleep as she made her getaway.

She stepped out into the cool mountain air, the slow rise of dawn creating a soft glow across the water. Throwing her bag into the car she climbed in, fumbling a little to put the key in the ignition. She closed her eyes for a moment in an effort to control the emotion that threatened to spill over. She didn't want to go, not really. Given a choice she would stay with him forever.

Stealing herself to stay strong she turned the key, gearing herself for a quick getaway. The sound of silence shocked her. She tried again, although she knew it was no use, there was no power, not even the choking sound of a flat battery or flooded engine. She leaned back heavily against the seat, panic filling her as she realised she was stuck.

Her gaze scanned the horizon before finally settling on the small cabin and the sight of the half naked man standing just inside the door, dangling a cable from his grasp. Lindsay Monroe didn't know a lot about cars but she knew enough to deduce that the part he was holding had been intentionally removed to disable the car.

She rested her head on the steering wheel, closing her eyes against the pointed expression on his face, the clear anger visible behind the wire rimmed glasses that were so much a part of him. She wasn't surprised when she felt the cool rush of air as the door was dragged open, the firm grasp on her arm pulling her from her seat and dragging her against him.

"Well, well, well Miss Monroe," he drawled, his accent accentuated, "Running again? You do surprise me," he added sarcastically.

"Danny, I . . . ."

"Save it," he said harshly as he pushed her away before leaning forwards, his arms wrapping around her as he threw her over his shoulder and strode back inside.

He'd expected her to put up a fight, to struggle against him. If he'd have known she would be so compliant he might have let her walk. He kicked the front door behind him before turning and depositing her on the couch. It was then that he saw the silent tears falling down her cheeks. He shook his head, desperately trying not to be vulnerable to her pain. Danny Messer had had enough.

"You don't play nice, I don't play nice," he growled.

Her head dropped to her hands as wracking sobs overtook her, shoulders trembling with distress. Danny wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms but he knew they would end up just where they'd been for the past day, dancing around their issues and failing to get anywhere.

Giving in a little he sat down beside her, allowing both of them the solace of reaching out and running his fingers through her hair, still not holding her but needing to offer some form of comfort while she cried her tears out.

He didn't know how long they sat there but eventually her sobs quietened, her tears drying into shadow tracks on her pale flesh. His hand moved from the back of her head to brush the hair from her face, drawing her attention to him.

Lindsay blinked in an effort to focus on him, clearing her mind to concentrate on the words that were forming on his lips.

"Today we talk," he said softly, "I want to know everything."

"Danny I don't . . . ."

He cut her off before she could come up with yet another excuse, another delaying tactic.

"You either talk to me now," he sighed, pausing for a moment, "Or I take you back to the city and you talk to the DA."

"The DA?" she asked, blinking with surprise.

He nodded. "You're the only witness in an ongoing murder enquiry Linds," he began, "I was gonna give you as much time as you needed but now . . . .," he balked a little at his own words, "but now I can't trust you to stick around for that long so we do this today."

Their eyes locked, his showing the clear determination that made him the detective he was, hers revealing a sudden sense of inevitability. With a small nod of her head she leaned back against the couch.


	5. Chapter 5

**Very angsty and emotional chapter. References to past abuse although mostly emotional abuse. Again, thank you for reading.  
**

* * *

Lindsay finished clearing away their breakfast things, her heart heavy in anticipation of what she had to tell him

Lindsay finished clearing away their breakfast things, her heart heavy in anticipation of what she had to tell him. She finished wiping down the counter then turned around, seeing Danny leaning against the wall just inside the small kitchen.

"Hey," she said nervously, her expression confused as she saw him holding her jacket in his hands.

"Here," he said, holding the jacket towards her, "Let's go for a walk."

She stared back at him for a moment before turning and letting him help her with the jacket. She took a deep breath before letting it out on a slow, raspy exhale. The feel of his fingers entwining with hers jolted her from her thoughts.

"It'll be okay," he whispered softly, his blue eyes holding her gaze.

She closed her eyes briefly before nodding slowly. She let him tug her from the room towards the door.

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Thirty minutes into their walk he still hadn't let go of her hand, pulling her along gently with him as they slowly made their way towards a break in the trees, in the direction of small cove that looked out onto a wider part of the lake.

He clambered up onto the rocks, his arm snaking around her middle to guide her with him. When he found a comfortable looking spot he tugged her down beside him before opening his back pack and handing her a bottle of water.

They sat in silence for several minutes, each absorbing the peace and quiet of their surroundings.

"I don't know what to say," Lindsay whispered eventually.

He turned towards her, eyes scanning her features before a finger reached to trace the smooth skin of her cheek.

"Just start at the beginning. We got time," he said with a small smile.

"That's just it," she replied, "I don't really know where the beginning is."

Danny nodded in understanding. "How about you tell me what you remember about Michaels?"

Lindsay felt her breath hitch in her throat, her heart pounding. "You know," she whispered, refusing to look at him, "you're a CSI, follow the evidence."

"That's Mac's mantra Linds," Danny replied on a heavy sigh, "you know what mine is?"

"Follow your heart," she replied automatically.

She felt his gentle touch lifting her chin, forcing her to look at him.

"And you know where my heart is," he said, his tone tender, "it's right here, with you."

He leaned in and kissed away the single tear that rolled down her cheek.

"I don't want you to hate me," she said, her voice quavering with emotion.

"Impossible," he snorted.

"Don't be too sure," she replied.

"You don't scare me Montana," he said, "nothing you tell me can do that."

She let out a heavy sigh.

"Okay," Danny said, "how about I tell you what I know. You fill in the blanks. How's that sound?"

She nodded before settling back in her makeshift seat.

"Okay," Danny said, his eyes settling on hers for a moment before gazing back out across the lake. He shifted a little to lean back against the rock and his hand reached out to tangle with hers, giving her fingers a reassuring squeeze before he began.

"Michaels was some sort of therapist, slightly dodgy credentials but he practiced in a number of cities out West before moving to the East a little over three years ago. Thirteen years ago he set up a practice in Bozeman Montana. He mostly saw private patients, helping them with anything from addictions to PTSD. What wasn't known at the time was that he had a history of sexual assaults on young girls, mostly ones that didn't come to light until after he confessed to his most recent crimes."

"I didn't know that," Lindsay said, her voice cracking slightly.

"How could you?" Danny asked gently, his eyes flitting to hers.

Silence stretched before them until Danny continued.

"You were taken to him by your mother who was worried about you after the death of your friends. He'd been recommended to her by a school counsellor. You saw him for a few months, . . . . . ."

"I couldn't talk to anyone," Lindsay suddenly interrupted him, "After the shooting I mean," she breathed deeply to control the tremor in her voice, "I just closed off, got angry, took it out on anyone who stood still for longer than a few moments," she added. "It wasn't my mom's fault . . . ."

"Course not," Danny said, his thumb drawing soothing circles against the back of her hand.

"I didn't like him," she continued, "Michaels. I just wanted to make my mom happy, wanted to make everyone happy. They all treated me so differently. I went from having four of the best friends in the world to having no-one and all I kept thinking was why was I the only one? Why was I the one who survived? So many times I wished I hadn't."

"It's okay," Danny soothed as her voice broke on a strangled choke, "It's okay Montana, if you need a break you take a break okay?" he said, leaning in and looking her in the eyes.

"I wanted to die," she said simply, her words causing Danny's heart to contract in his chest. "And you know what stopped me from doing that?" she asked, her voice rising slightly, "I didn't want to let them down. I'd let so many of them down, their families, my family, my own mother. I could see it in her eyes, the pain, the hurt. I turned into that weird girl that no-one wanted to talk to. My mom was shunned by her friends, that's what it's like, that small town mentality. People were scared of us. People were scared of me. It was as though something terrible would happen if they came anywhere near me. I was so lonely Danny."

"Shh, it's okay," he whispered, pulling her against his chest as tears once again coursed down her cheeks. "You're not alone now baby. I won't let you be alone."

Several minutes later she pulled back from his embrace, her tears gone for the moment. Danny felt a wave of anger engulf him at what those around her had done to her. How could they treat her like that? She was just a child.

"I hated going to see Michaels," she whispered, "I hated how he made me feel. But eventually I learned how to cope with it. I didn't talk, I barely said a word for the hour or so I was with him every week. He just used to walk around his office, watering his plants and talking about mundane things, telling me about his life. It was easy once I knew how to handle it. I would just sit there and let him talk."

"What made you stop going?" Danny asked after another prolonged silence.

"He scared me," she said. "Up until then he'd just been a bit creepy, but it was kinda like having tea with an old uncle or something. No big deal, he hadn't done anything. But then I turned sixteen and things changed."

Danny tried to control the fear that gripped his chest. He knew the last thing she needed was to see that. She would take it as another rejection of her, another person who was afraid of her and her past.

"What changed?" he asked, forcing a gentle inflection into his voice in an effort to combat the emotions that were building up in him.

"He started touching me," she said simply, her voice calm and her gaze held steady on a spot on the landscape.

She felt the way his muscles tensed and his grip tightened on her hand.

"Linds," he whispered hoarsely, desperately trying to find the words that would help her finish her story. "Did he rape you?"

She shook her head, allowing him a moment of brief respite, relief engulfing him before he remembered that rape or no rape this man had inflicted pain and abuse that he'd had no right to inflict.

"No," she said, the single word supporting her previous gesture, "that would have been crass, he was more subtle than that. It started with tiny gestures, touching my arm, stroking my hair when he was standing behind me, thinking I wouldn't notice. It went on like that for a few weeks, little things that made me feel uncomfortable but nothing major, nothing tangible. He'd always made me uncomfortable and although what he was doing was different it wasn't _that_ different at first."

She paused again, taking a moment to settle her thoughts.

"Go on," Danny encouraged, squeezing her hand again, somehow knowing that she needed to continue, that she needed to get this out as quickly and as painlessly as possible. "You said it wasn't that different at first, so I'm guessing that changed."

She nodded. "Yeah," she whispered, "his touches became more obvious, more frequent. Nothing intimate though, it was just . . . . the intensity shifted. There was something in his eyes, a kind of desperation. I found it disturbing. I'd been able to handle it up until then."

She turned her head at the sharp intake of breath that sounded from his throat.

"Sorry," he croaked, "It's just you shouldn't hafta've handled it," he added.

A simple shrug was her only response. "The last time I saw him he told me he loved me. Told me he wanted to take me away, that I was old enough to make my own decisions now and that I would have a good life with him."

"What did you do?" Danny asked.

"I went home and told my mother I was better, that I didn't need to see him anymore."

"And she believed you?"

"Sure," she said with a shrug, "why wouldn't she? The one thing my sessions with him did was allow me to shrink further into myself, they gave me the time I needed to push everything away, to pretend that nothing had happened. I learned how to ignore all the whispers and the looks and forget everything."

"How did that work for ya?" he asked gently.

She turned to look at him, seeing the open curiosity on his face, the tender look that told her he cared.

"It worked perfectly," she replied honestly, "I pretended my friends never existed, pretended I was as normal as the next person. I went to college and met people who knew nothing about me and carried on pretending. I came to New York and pretended to be someone else. I pretended I _could_ be someone different. And it worked, for a long time it worked. The only setback was the phone call from the prosecutor's office in Bozeman telling me they had Katum, but then once that was over I could carry on pretending, until . . . .." She let out a heavy sigh.

"Until you walked into the interrogation room and saw Michaels."

"Yeah."

"I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you," Danny whispered, a sudden wave a pain causing the words to tumble from his lips.

"It's okay," she said softly.

"Why did you go?" he asked suddenly, again his emotions were getting the better of him, forcing the one question he'd promised himself he wouldn't ask to be voiced.

"I couldn't . . . . I just couldn't . . .," she was unable to finish voicing her thoughts, something holding her back.

"It's okay," he insisted.

"No it isn't Danny. It isn't okay. None of it is okay."

"I know," he said soothingly, his arm reaching out to pull her against him, finding resistance as she pushed back from him.

"No you don't," she said harshly, more than she intended.

"Then explain it to me," he said, his brow arched in enquiry.

Lindsay pulled away from him until her back hit the rock behind her. She brought her knees up to her chest, curling her arms around herself in a comforting gesture.

"Those girls Danny," she said, her voice wavering.

"Girls?" he asked, frowning in confusion.

"The girls Danny!" she shouted, "the ones who died, the ones who were raped. The ones he violated because of me! Don't you see? It was all because of _me_," she sobbed. "That's why I couldn't tell you, that's why I tried to leave last night, why I left before."

Her eyes were wild, arms gesturing in frustration and despair. Danny just stared at her, his mouth hanging open in shock.

"I knew there was something not right with him, I _knew_ he shouldn't be practicing. _Jesus_! I should have known he would do something like this. Why didn't I know? Why didn't I tell?"

He watched, unable to move as her hands fisted in her hair and she wailed in anger and pain.

"Why was I the only one?" she cried, "why was I the only one who survived when it was all because of me?"

And then he moved, quickly towards her. His foot slipped on the rock in his desperation to get to her, to console her. His hands landed either side of her face, rougher than he'd intended.

"You look at me Lindsay Monroe!" he shouted, trying to get through to her, "This was _not_ you fault. None of it, ya hear me?" He shook her slightly, trying to make her hear him. "It was him, _all_ of it. He was the sick bastard who took what he wanted, _he_ hurt them not you. You were as much a victim in all of this as they were. Okay, you escaped with your life but he took from you, oh god he took so much from you. "

Danny couldn't fight his own tears as they fell from his eyes, tears of sorrow for the pain she was in, tears of anger towards the man who had done this to her, the _men_ who had done this to her. Between Katum and Michaels they'd taken every last ounce of innocence and trampled it into the ground. Yet here she was, the woman he'd fallen in love with, the strong, beautiful woman who despite everything still had the ability to love and be loved, to fight and be fought for. If only she'd let him.

"_Christ_ Lindsay," he whispered urgently, his hands now moving through her hair, fingers brushing desperately at the tears that landed on her face, "you were sixteen, _sixteen_," he said, shaking her again in emphasis, "you'd lost your friends only a few months before. You cannot be held responsible for any of this, ya hear me?"

"It hurts Danny," she cried, "It hurts so fucking much."

"I know baby, I know," he said frantically, "I just wish . . . . I just wish I could tear that fucking son of a bitch apart with my bare hands. It was him Linds, all of it was him."

He moved from his kneeling position in front of her, falling awkwardly beside her, taking her in his arms, pulling her into his lap where he held her tightly to him. Her head was buried in his neck, her tears soaking into his skin, healing both of them in their own way. At least now he knew, he knew what he was dealing with, why she'd run, why she'd kept on running.

And now that he knew, he was going to make damn sure she never had a reason to run again.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/n: It's been so long since I updated this but I kind of lost my inspiration during season 4. Part of my problem is that I like to write as close to canon as possible and obviously in this fic, although it was post Ruben, Danny hadn't slept with Rikki. Anyway, I've managed to reconcile with myself the fact that in this fic I've gone slightly AU re. Danny having still pushed Lindsay away, but not to the point of sleeping with Rikki. **

* * *

She lifted her face up towards the sky, letting the rain wash over her, cleansing her. There was something new and fresh about the rain when it wasn't bouncing off the walls of the concrete skyscrapers that made up New York. The air up in the Catskills was cleaner, fresher, something that reminded her of the spring rains of Montana.

She felt his presence behind her before he spoke.

"Ya ready to come in yet Montana?" he asked, "I've drawn you a bath."

She turned to face him, the rain running in rivulets off of her face, reminding him of the tears that she'd wept for most of the day. But these were not tears, and the sparkle in her eyes replaced the slow torment that had haunted her very being since the moment he'd seen her nearly two days before.

"Hold me?" she asked.

"Of course," he replied, his own body now soaked through to the skin.

As he stepped in towards her, she stopped him with a hand to his chest.

"Not like before," she whispered.

He frowned in confusion. "What . .. .?"

She shook her head briefly before stepping into him, into the circle of his arms.

"Hold me like you used to," she pleaded.

He captured her face between the palms of his hands, eyes locking with hers, a storm brewing behind the blue orbs.

"Nothing has changed," he said simply.

He stared into her eyes for several more moments before his head lowered and he captured her lips with his. Lindsay moaned breathlessly as she sank into his kiss, the sensation of his tongue tangling with hers creating an instant fire in her belly. She pushed into him more tightly, her hands clinging to him as his own hands roamed her back before settling at her hips, pulling her against him and revealing his need for her in one swift motion.

When he pulled back both were breathless. She saw the hint of colour tingeing his cheeks, the storm brewing behind his eyes.

"Jesus Montana," he whispered roughly.

"Danny," she panted, her arms snaking around his neck, "take me inside."

He didn't say a word, just lifted her up until she wrapped her legs around his waist then carried her inside. He didn't stop until they reached the bathroom where he deposited her on her feet. She stood in the middle of the room as he stepped back from her.

"I should . . . . . just leave," he said slowly, his voice sounding alien to him.

"Danny," she whispered, her tone pleading.

"Mon-ta-na," he whined, clearly frustrated, "I don't think . . ."

"No!" she said urgently, stepping towards him, "don't think, just stop thinking. I need you."

"And you have me baby," he said, smiling crookedly at her, "you've always had me and you always will. I just don't want to rush you, you've had an emotional day and . . . . ."

"Fine!" she huffed, clearly annoyed.

Turning away from him slightly she dragged her shirt over her head, moving quickly to pop the button on her jeans. She then reached around and unclasped her bra, dragging it away from her body before flinging the sodden material to the floor. She turned back towards him, her hands already dragging the heavy denim from her hips. She tried to hide the smirk that lifted her mouth when she saw the expression on his face.

"Damn Montana," he said slowly, his words coming out on a low breath.

She couldn't hide her smirk any longer, instead letting it grow into a full grin.

"You still saying no cowboy?" she asked.

"I don't think I actually said no," Danny replied, "I believe I said _slow_ Lindsay."

She arched her brow at him. "I like it slow," she teased, laughing at his responding groan.

A second later she was completely naked. She stood in front of him for several moments before turning and climbing into the tub, sinking down into its warm depths with a satisfied sigh. She lay back and closed her eyes, her grin grew wider as she heard him curse.

"Damnit!"

The sound of sodden clothes hitting the floor forced a chuckle from her lips but she kept her eyes closed even as she felt herself being pushed forward as he climbed in behind her.

It was only when she felt his arms circling around her that she opened her eyes. She sighed blissfully and leaned back into him.

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She stood in the doorway watching him sitting by the lake. Pulling the blanket around her naked form she stepped out onto the mossy grass, letting the dew from the morning soak through her skin as she padded towards him.

"Hey," he said as he turned, his trademark grin firmly in place.

"Mornin'," she whispered huskily as she sat beside him.

She welcomed the feel of his arm wrapping around her and pulling her into his side, the soft brush of his lips against her brow.

"I missed you," she said softly.

"You don't got to do that no more Montana," he replied.

"Miss you?" she asked, looking for confirmation.

"Yeah," he replied, "no more missin' each other," he added as he leaned back against the bench, taking her with him.

They sat in silence for several minutes before she spoke.

"How are you?" she asked quietly.

He turned to look at her, eyes scanning her features. "Ya know what Montana?" he said, "I'm great."

"I don't mean that," she said, her hand reaching and entwining their fingers, "I've been wondering . . . .," she swallowed nervously.

"Wonderin'?" he arched a brow in question.

Lindsay caught her lip between her teeth, worrying it in a way that was all too familiar.

"What?" he asked, shaking his head a little and frowning in confusion.

She took a deep breath. "I've been wondering about Ruben," she said simply.

She watched as she saw the pain etching across his face as memories flooded him.

"I'm sorry, I . . . . . ."

"It's okay," he said quickly, gripping her hand more tightly as she tried to pull back from him.

They sat for a moment, neither speaking.

"To tell you the truth I haven't had much time to think about that," he replied honestly.

Lindsay looked back at him, trying to gauge what was going through his mind before realisation hit her.

"Oh god, I'm sorry," she whispered, pain hitting her full on.

"Sorry? Why are you sorry?"

"I don't, . . . . I didn't . . . .," she couldn't speak as fresh tears clogged her throat.

"What?" he asked, suddenly concerned.

She moved quickly, wrapping her arms around him. Danny froze for a moment, surprised at her actions before he wrapped his arms around her.

"I wanted to be there for you," she said, "I wanted that so much."

"I know," he whispered, his tone ragged, "I know that Linds. I'm sorry I didn't let ya."

"No, no, no," she said, pulling back to look him in the eyes, "I mean, I'm sorry I left, I'm sorry I left when you were dealing with all that."

His hands reached to cup her face. "I'm sorry you left too," he replied honestly, "but not because of Ruben. I'm sorry about what happened to you, about what happened to him. I'm sorry I pushed you away and that when I realised I didn't need to do that anymore I was too late."

"You realised you didn't need to push me away?" she asked, frowning in confusion.

She watched as he closed his eyes, his deep sigh revealing more than any words could.

"What happened?" she asked softly.

When he opened his eyes she saw the pain behind his expression; the hurt shadowing his features.

"That day," he began, "after we talked in the hall, I did some thinkin' . . . . ." He took a deep breath, "and I realised I was being stupid, that I didn't need to push you away, that I didn't need to deal with it on my own. I think I'd just been so focused on trying to help Rikki, trying to be there to support her and I couldn't figure out how to do that and be with you at the same time."

Lindsay took a sharp breath, the hurt coursing through her at his words. She understood what he was saying, had understood at the time that he couldn't figure out how to keep every aspect of his life on track. She'd accepted that she was the one to be pushed to one side, even though she'd hated it, she'd accepted it.

"I'm sorry," Danny whispered, nuzzling his face in her hair.

"S'okay," she replied, her arms tightening around him.

Danny shifted and moved his hands to her face, cupping her cheeks and staring intently into the depths of her eyes.

"Please Lindsay," he began, "I . . . ."

He paused, frowning a little as he struggled to voice what was on his mind.

"What is it?" she asked.

"I just don't want us to do this anymore, I don't want us to keep running and pushing each other away when things go wrong. We need to face the hard times together, enjoy the good times."

Lindsay couldn't help the smile that tugged at her lips. She reached up and covered his hands with her own, pulling them away from her face and linking their fingers between them.

"I'd like that," she said, "I'd really, really like that."

"Good," Danny replied, a broad grin splitting his face.

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Lindsay sighed as she leaned into him, her head resting against his shoulder as they lay back against the couch. She'd never felt at peace the way she did right now. She knew, somewhere at the back of her mind that they needed to talk about going home, that she needed to face up to what was waiting back home.

"When d'ya need to get back to work?" she asked softly.

She couldn't help but notice the way his muscles stiffened. "Don't ya worry 'bout that Montana," he said, dropping a kiss to her brow.

"But Danny, we can't . . . . ." she didn't get to finish that sentence as his lips claimed hers in a kiss that was hard and fast, taking her breath and any logical thoughts.

It had been so long since they'd been together like this, if ever really, that she allowed herself to feel, allowed herself to get carried away on the moment.

The sudden pounding at the door had them both jumping apart. Danny shot up from the couch and moved to grab his gun. Lindsay stared after him in shock.

"Get in the bedroom," he whispered urgently.

"But Danny, . . ."

"Please baby," he begged, "It'll be fine, please, just go in the bedroom."

Lindsay hesitated a moment before she gathered the blanket around her and made her way to the back of the cabin quietly. She sat on the bed, a part of her wanting to hide, while another part, the CSI in her wanted to grab her own gun and face whatever there was to face on the other side of that door.

She heard voices, Danny's urgent tone, followed by a more hushed voice, one that sounded placating.

"What the hell do you want?" Danny asked in frustration.

There was something in the way he asked the question that made Lindsay get up from the bed, something in his tone that told her even though he wasn't happy to see whoever had arrived, they presented very little in the way of a threat.

"I told Flack," Danny said angrily, "I'm doing this my way. You have no right to come here, I don't work for you anymore."

"Actually, that's not strictly, . . ." Mac Taylor stopped talking, his gaze resting on the spot just behind Danny.

The younger man turned around to see Lindsay hovering in the doorway to the bedroom, still wrapped in the blanket that normally rested against the back of the couch.

"You don't work for him anymore?" Lindsay asked in obvious confusion.

"Linds, I . . .," Danny ran his fingers through his hair in frustration.

"Lindsay," Mac said in greeting, his head bobbing slightly in acknowledgement.

"Hey Mac," she replied before her eyes flitted from him to Danny, "what's going on?"

"Mac was just leaving," Danny bit out.

"No. I wasn't," Mac said with a slight shake of his head, "we need to sort this out Danny."

"There's nothing to fucking sort out Mac," Danny growled, "you made your opinion of me very clear, and now I don't work for you. In fact I never want to see you again."

"Danny!"

He stopped in the process of yanking open the door that was still partially ajar, in an attempt to get the older man to walk back through it, the sound of Lindsay's voice commanding in its curiosity.

"I want to know what's going on," she said, moving further into the room.

It was only then she noticed the third man, standing just inside the kitchen. Sheldon Hawkes stared back at her, watching as she faltered in her steps closer to Danny and Mac. Lindsay opened her mouth to say something, but her brain struggled to comprehend what was happening. Eventually she just stopped and stood in the middle of the room, suddenly feeling vulnerable, suddenly realising that so much had happened, of which she had no comprehension.

"I don't understand," she whispered, shrugging lightly under the blanket.

Danny moved quickly, ignoring the other occupants of the room to stand in front of her, his hands reaching for her.

"It's okay," he said gently, "there's nothing to worry about, no-one's going to make you do anything you don't want."

"You sure about that Dan?" she asked, her eyes flitting between the other two men.

"Lindsay," Mac began but he was cut off just as quickly.

"Don't speak to her," Danny said, almost childishly, "I don't want you speaking to her."

"Danny," Lindsay said, becoming increasingly concerned, "why are you doing this. Mac won't hurt us."

Danny stepped back, again raking his fingers through his hair. "You sure 'bout that Montana?" he asked, mirroring her words of a moment before.

"I won't," Mac interjected, "I promise you I won't Danny. I'm not here to make anyone do anything they don't want to. I'm just here to make sure you're okay. You may not want to believe it but we all care about you, both of you and we want to help."

"Like you did before?" Danny bit back.

Mac sighed heavily, "You have no idea how much I regret that," he said softly.

Lindsay watched as Danny seemed to relax a little, the pent up anger and frustration levelling out but still very apparent.

"I have a suggestion."

It was the first time Sheldon Hawkes had spoken. "Why don't the two of you go and talk," he said, indicating Danny and Mac, "I'll stay here and keep Lindsay company."

His eyes flitted to Lindsay's. She seemed to hesitate for a moment, as though running his suggestion over in her mind. Eventually she gave a small, almost imperceptible nod.

"That's settled then," Hawkes said.

Danny glanced at Lindsay with a narrow eyed expression, taking in her obvious ease at spending time with their friend and colleague before turning towards the other man. He studied Sheldon for several moments before taking a step towards him.

"I'm trusting you," he said simply.

"Understood," Hawkes said, with a nod.

Danny hesitated a moment longer, seriously contemplating telling Mac where to go, but one look at Lindsay's haunted expression and he realised he needed to do this for her as much as for him. They needed a fresh start and they'd only get that if they cleared all the baggage from the past.

And to Danny Messer that's exactly what Mac Taylor was. Past baggage. As soon as it was cleared, he could move on.


	7. Chapter 7

**I'm really sorry it took so long to update this. I'd originally intended to explore much more the issues Danny had with Ruben's death and how this impacted on his relationship with Lindsay, but then tptb had him sleep with Rikki on the show and I had to make this much more AU than I'd intended which was a struggle because I like to keep my stories as close to canon as possible. I really hope this doesn't feel like too much of a rapid completion of this story but I really couldn't take it anywhere else despite trying so it felt like it needed to end this way or be left unfinished. Thanks for all the support for this story.**

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* * *

**Lindsay stood watching as Danny and Mac stepped outside, the door swinging shut behind them. There was no mistaking the pent up anger that suffused every cell of Danny's being, nor the uncharacteristic uncertainty that seemed to sit without comfort on Mac Taylor's shoulders.

"What the hell's going on?" she asked, turning towards Sheldon Hawkes.

His dark gaze settled on her, a hint of concern in his expression. "Linds," he began, his tone conciliatory.

"No," she said decisively, "don't you do that Sheldon Hawkes, don't you fob me off. I want to know what's going on."

"And you will Lindsay," he said quickly, "I'm just not sure I'm the one who should be filling you in."

Lindsay's shoulder's sagged in defeat, "you can't tell me anything?" she asked softly.

"I can catch you up on lab gossip?" he offered tentatively, his expression reminiscent of the times they'd talked over coffee in the break room. Lindsay couldn't help the peal of laughter that escaped her at his attempt to ease the tension.

"You always were the third woman on the team Sheldon," she said, unable to stop the emotional tears that stung her eyes.

"Yeah well, what would you and Stel have done without me?" he asked stepping up and pulling her towards him, his arms wrapping comfortingly around her. "God, I've missed you Lindsay Monroe."

&&&&&&&&&

It took every last fragment of Danny Messer's control not to lash out. He was used to feeling angry, welcomed it even, but this was different, a force that had him gripped in a tidal wave of emotion. He paced the tiny dock that led to the lake, hands buried deep in the pockets of his jeans in an effort to control his fighting instincts.

"I'm sorry Danny."

"Yeah?" Danny asked the older man with a snarl, "well you don't get to brush this off with an apology Mac."

"I was worried about her," Mac said softly.

"And you thought I would make matters worse?" Danny growled.

"Yes."

The simplicity of the older man's response shocked him. He hadn't expected that, although really he should have done. Mac Taylor never saw the need to complicate matters with too many words.

"I love her Mac." Despite all his good intentions to stay angry he couldn't keep it up, he was too tired of battling to prove himself.

"I didn't know, not for certain."

"She knew," Danny replied, finally allowing his gaze to meet that of his mentor, "she knew," he whispered.

"I see that," Mac replied, "I didn't then but I do now."

"What if I could've made a difference Mac? Ya didn't think of that did ya?"

"You think you could've done Danny?" Mac asked quietly, "Do you really think you could've stopped her from running?"

"I'd have liked the chance to try," the younger man said, his stance still defensive.

"I wish I'd have given you that chance," Mac said, his eyes locking with Danny's, his sincerity clear.

Danny faltered for a moment, his anger simmering beneath the surface for a second as he absorbed his former boss' conciliatory demeanour. But in Danny's mind conciliation was not Mac's to give, all he could think of was the fact that Lindsay had been alone, running scared for months, after every other thing she'd been through. Truth be told, there was an infinite degree of guilt on Danny's part, guilt that he had added to her sense of isolation after Ruben's death.

"Yeah well, it's too fucking late for regrets Mac. We're done, it's over." He turned and took a step away.

"She has to testify."

The last shred of Danny's fragile control snapped.

"No, no, no, no!" he roared as he swung back towards the older man, eyes wild, his anger finally erupting from him in an explosion of invisible colour.

Mac stumbled back as Danny's fist connected with his jaw. He should have seen it coming, Danny was notorious for his hot headedness, his tendency to lash out when hurt or cornered. Mac knew this had been a long time coming. But it didn't mean he had to like it. A moment later he'd restrained Danny in a choke hold, his years of experience as a marine more than a match for Danny's anger.

That simple move to immobilise him seemed to have an equal impact on Danny's emotions, his legs sagging under the strain of the past months. Mac moved from a position of restraint to one of comfort as Danny's body was wracked with silent sobs, tears coursing down his face as he continued to curse but now with little conviction. It was as if all the fight had seeped out of him and all that was left was the emptiness of drained emotion.

8888888

"I really gave Don a black eye?" Lindsay asked Sheldon incredulously.

"Yep," Sheldon replied with a grin, "you should have seen him trying to explain that one away."

All of a sudden Lindsay was struck by a wave of sobriety. For close to an hour she and Hawkes had talked superficially about the goings on in the lab but now they'd entered into the realms of the harsh reality of Lindsay's situation.

"I feel bad about that," she whispered, "I didn't mean to hurt him, I just felt cornered."

"He knows that Linds, I think he'd willingly let you do it again just so long as you're okay."

Head bent, Lindsay blinked at the sudden tears that filled her eyes. "Am I okay though?" she asked quietly.

Sheldon Hawkes' sharp intake of breath was telling, he leaned forward on the worn couch and wiped his hand across his face before answering.

"You will be Lindsay," he said softly, "we're all with you on this."

"Mac wants me to testify doesn't he?" she asked, "that's why you're here."

Sheldon hesitated before answering, taking a moment to gauge her likely response to his reply.

"Actually Mac's the last person to want you to testify, you know how he is."

"It's all about the evidence," Lindsay supplied, finally lifting her head and looking at him straight on.

Sheldon reached out and took her hand. "The DA has got a bee in his bonnet over this Linds, he's going to subpoena you for your testimony by the end of the week."

Lindsay let out a shaky breath, her feet moving restlessly against the hardwood floor, tapping a staccato sound in a frantic rhythm. Sheldon rested his hand against her leg in an effort to draw her attention away from the internal conflict that was obviously taking place within her.

"Oh god," she said shakily, "I don't know if I can, I don't think I can face him, I . . ."

"It's okay," Sheldon said gently, gripping her hand more tightly, "you're not alone in this Lindsay."

"Where's Danny?" she asked suddenly, moving quickly to her feet and running her clammy palms against the front of her jeans.

"He's still taking to Mac, they'll be back in a while."

"I need to talk to him," Lindsay said simply.

888888

"I don't know if she can take it Mac," Danny said simply.

By now the two of them were sitting side by side on the dock, a quiet understanding having settled between them.

"She's not alone in this Danny, that's the big difference. She's got you and she's got the rest of the team. If anything, the past few days must have shown you how much we all care about the two of you."

Danny looked up into the piercing gaze of his old mentor, seeing the unflinching conviction he had known would be there.

"I appreciate that Mac," Danny replied, "but none of you owe us anything, we can deal with this, deal with the DA. If we have to go up against him then I don't want that to reflect badly on you or the lab, it's better if Lindsay and I deal with this ourselves."

"It doesn't matter how you deal with it Danny, whether it's with or without the rest of the team the lab will still be brought into it."

"How? Why?" Danny asked, shaking his head in confusion, "neither Lindsay or I are on the payroll anymore, there's not really anything Sinclair can do to us right now."

Mac sighed and stretched his legs out in front of him. "You may not be on the payroll anymore," he said, glancing pointedly at Danny, "but neither of you are officially terminated."

"Then terminate us," Danny said, with a nonchalant shrug.

"I can't do that," Mac replied, "not for another few months."

"I don't understand," Danny said.

"I granted you and Lindsay sabbaticals. As far as Sinclair is concerned you both have unpaid leave with the option of returning as long as you're both medically fit. That agreement stands until the end of the year."

"Sinclair agreed that?" Danny asked incredulously, "I'd have thought under the circumstances he'd have . . . ."

"Under the circumstances which Sinclair was aware of, he agreed it," Mac interrupted with a smirk.

Danny stared at him for a moment before dropping his gaze to the calm waters in front of them. It shouldn't have been much of a surprise to him that Mac had bent the truth in his dealings with Sinclair, Mac was his own man who for as long as Danny had known him had worked with his own brand of hybrid ethics, it was one of the things that Danny admired about him.

"I appreciate it Mac, really I do. I just don't know what to do. I can't deal with Lindsay running again but I don't know if she can go through alla that, ya know?"

"I won't run, I told you that already."

Both men turned at the sound of her voice behind them. She stood there, tears pooling in her eyes, her body trembling.

"I'm scared," she said simply, her eyes locking with Danny's, "but if you're with me I won't run."

88888888

District Attorney Oliver Winter twisted the pen he was holding through his fingers, his gaze fixed on the young couple in front of him. He knew both of their stories, had come across the two of them countless times in a professional capacity. He sighed before dropping the pen onto the desk in front of him, noting the way Lindsay Monroe flinched at the sudden sound in the near silent room.

"You can go," Winter said suddenly.

"What the hell does that mean?" Danny asked, the growl in his voice unmistakable.

Winter raised his brow at the angry detective, "It means detective," he began as he pushed his chair back and rose to his feet, "that I've decided not to put detective Monroe on the stand."

"Then what the hell . . . . ?" Danny began as he too clambered to his feet, his frustration obvious. His words were cut off by the calming touch of Lindsay's hand in his, her fingers squeezing his gently.

"I think what detective Messer is trying to say sir, is why did you bring me all the way here if you aren't going to put me on the stand?" she asked calmly.

"Because it's my responsibility to ensure we have a watertight case against Michael's. We already do, but I couldn't make my final decision before talking to you in person. Now, Mac Taylor assures me the evidence will speak for itself and that, coupled with your signed statement will be enough to convince a jury of his guilt. I tend to agree with Taylor."

Lindsay felt a flood of relief rush through her. "Thank you," she whispered, tears stinging her eyes.

"You're welcome Ms Monroe. Now I suggest you put this behind you and get on with your life, this son of a bitch won't ever be seeing the light of day again."

With a curt nod, he pulled the door open and Danny and Lindsay walked through it.

Neither spoke until they reached the steps that led them onto the street. Lindsay stopped and took a gulp of air to steady her emotions before turning to the man standing silently next to her.

"Is it really over?" she asked, seeking confirmation from him.

"It's really over," he said softly, pulling her towards him and wrapping her into a warm hug.

She held onto him tightly, her fingers gripping his shoulders before her arms snaked around his neck.

"Take me home," she whispered.

"Of course," he replied with a smile as he pulled back, his hands reaching to smooth her hair from her face.

"Kiss me first," she demanded with a wry smile.

"Anything you want Montana," Danny replied, chuckling.

The feel of his lips pressed tightly against her own was akin to having life breathed back into her. The strain of the past months gave way to a sense of hope for their future as Lindsay pressed herself against him, welcoming the feeling of freedom that coursed through her.

When they pulled back she staggered slightly, her energy drained. As always Danny was there to catch her, his arms holding her close as he pressed his brow against hers. He opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by the sound of laughter coming from somewhere below them.

"Get a room!"

Without breaking contact they both turned to peer in the direction of the all too familiar sound of Donald Flack Jnr, both were caught by surprise at the sight of the group surrounding him though.

Danny heard Lindsay take in a sharp breath when she saw the four people standing a few feet away; Mac, Stella and Hawkes were grinning alongside Flack.

"C'mon," Danny said, tugging Lindsay down the steps.

Lindsay gripped his hand tightly, suddenly nervous at being confronted by the friends she turned her back on all those months before. But soon she found herself snatched away from his comforting hold by an excited Stella, the older woman taking hold of Lindsay in a death grip.

"I've missed you so much," Stella said, her voice cracking slightly, "it's so good to have you home."

Lindsay felt tears stinging her eyes at the warmth in Stella's voice, tears she saw reflected in her friend's eyes when she pulled back to give Lindsay a once over, making sure she was really there and she was in one piece.

"Thank you Stel," Lindsay whispered, "I missed you too."

Stella gave her a comforting squeeze before stepping back and making room for Mac, followed closely by Hawkes to take their turns in welcoming her back to the fold. Finally, she found herself standing in front of a smirking Don Flack who had his arms outstretched in welcome but as she took a step towards him he took one back.

"Ya sure you're not gonna slug me Monroe?" he asked, his grin breaking out all over his face.

Lindsay couldn't help the blush that rose in her cheeks, "I . . . I'm really, really sorry Don," she stammered, her gaze unable to meet his.

"Just kidding Monroe," he said as he stepped forward and engulfed her in an enthusiastic hug that saw her feet dangling several inches off the ground. "It's good to have you back," he added.

"Alright, alright Casanova," Danny said quickly as he stepped in to rescue her, "stop tryin' ta sweep my girl offa her feet."

Lindsay attempted to steady herself as her feet met solid ground, her expression stunned and the blush on her face even more prominent. She was more than a little breathless as Danny laughingly swept his arm around her waist.

"Sullivan's in 10 you two," Don shouted back at them as the team started to move away, leaving the two of them staring at their retreating forms.

"Dear god, what just happened?" Lindsay asked tremulously.

"They missed you," Danny said simply.

"I never thought . . . ." she began, struggling for words.

"Never thought what?" Danny asked gently.

She just shrugged in response.

"They care about you Linds," he whispered against her ear as he pulled her close.

"Thank you."

"Thank me?" he asked, his gaze locking with hers, "For what?"

"For not giving up on me," she replied, her expression serious, "I've never had anybody care for me like that, you make me feel like I can do anything Dan."

"You can do anything sweetheart," he whispered, "And I will always be with you, nothing will change that."

She reached up and ran the pads of her fingers across his cheekbones, down his jaw, before resting her fingers against his slightly parted lips.

"I will always be with you too," she said, her eyes full of love, "I know I haven't shown that much lately but you've got to believe me Danny. I love you."

"I do believe you Montana," he said as he kissed the tips of her fingers before taking hold of her hand then dropping his head so he could capture her lips in a searing kiss that left both of them more than a little breathless.

"Welcome home Montana," he said softly, brushing his fingers against her cheek and wiping away the solitary tear that escaped from her glistening eyes. "Now let's get out of here before Don comes back and carries you to Sullivan's."

She shuddered at the prospect of the larger than life detective, forcibly carrying her into the bar.

"Then what are you waiting for," she said with a laugh, tugging on his hand and forcing him to fall into step beside her.

"I aint waiting for nothing Montana," he said, "Everything I need is right here."

"Me too cowboy," she countered with a smile, "me too."


End file.
